


sea of dreams

by poppyharris



Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: Suicidal Thoughts, depression (as per usual), questioning why tf you’re still alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:09:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29667078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: dylan can’t sleep.
Kudos: 3





	sea of dreams

dylan stared at his ceiling. his fan gently spun, the only thing breaking the silence. the light from his computer lit his room in a sterile white color, reminding him of a hospital.

if he just tilted his head a little to the right, he could’ve looked out of the window. at the sky. at the stars. at the vast nothingness of the area. it was cold in his room now, but he didn’t want to turn off the fan.

he stared at his cupboards at the foot of his bed. dylan was a sucker for never putting anything in them. he just threw his shit wherever. it wasn’t like it mattered.

no one cared. no one apart from him came in the room. his hand felt strange resting beside him. the tingling feeling spread up his arm and across his shoulders. he felt cold. maybe this was it. maybe he was having a stroke or something. 

the numbness passed as quickly as it had came. somewhere a dog barked. dylan didn’t want to be free. he was perfectly happy inside his own head. this was fine.

his neck ached from the position of his pillows. but he didn’t move them. the pain kept him grounded, reminded him he was still there on his bed.

suddenly the corner of his left eye was wet. he touched it, and the broken droplet of a tear covered dylan’s finger. a ballooning desire to yawn began to creep it’s way up dylan’s throat. what time was it?

he looked over at the red lights of his alarm clock. the digits making his head ache. he had class at 10:20 tomorrow, mrs bauzeit was sick, so he didn’t have calculus. but it was 2am. a growing boy like dylan shouldn’t be up that late. 

the bags under his eyes taunted him whenever he woke up. he stared in the mirror for hours some night, rubbing the dark circles. he’d tried ice, but just ended up giving himself minor frostbite. 

no one noticed him, of course. eric remarked on how he looked like a panda, but left it at that. dylan’s hatred for himself grew every time he looked in the goddamn mirror. he couldn’t stop himself from running his thumb along the underside of his eye, trying to wipe away things he wasn’t happy with.

but he wasn’t doing anything now. he was just staring at his ceiling. he’d wanted it all black, but his mom said no. so he was stuck staring at this pale blue shit. dylan had been stoked when he was told he was getting byron’s old room. but it was just the same. but with a worse view and more depression.

his eyes ached. whenever he blinked, it took twice the amount of effort to open his eyes again. he didn’t want to open his eyes again. he just wanted to close his eyes and never open them again. to stop… feeling. he couldn’t cope like this for much longer.

dylan turned over, staring into the mirror propped up next to his door. he looked a fucking state. but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t move. he just continued to lie there, wondering where it had all derailed. 

he closed his eyes one last time, determined to sleep. but swirling patterns painted the inside of his eyelids, becoming people, then animals, then a bursting galaxy of stars began to swirl around inside his head. there was a time and place for hauntingly beautiful supernovas, dylan thought, and now wasn’t either.

so dylan’s eyes opened again, and he stared at himself reproachfully. nice one, jackass. can’t even sleep without seeing the eighth wonder of the universe.

he sighed deeply, his alarm clock ticking over to half 2. he couldn’t sleep naturally, might as well give nature a helping hand. he lifted his head from the pillow, removed it, then put it over his own face.

and dylan woke up at 7:20am, the pillow still on his face, and an overwhelming desire to die.

**Author's Note:**

> song: sea of dreams by oberhofer


End file.
